


A Loving Accident

by CometEclipse



Series: Idril Lavellan [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Desk Sex, F/M, First Time, Pining, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-25
Updated: 2016-01-25
Packaged: 2018-05-16 04:24:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5813998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CometEclipse/pseuds/CometEclipse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An accident throws Cullen into close, intimate proximity with the woman he has been longing for, Idril Lavellan. If only he can hide his reaction to her.</p>
<p>This is my prize story to im-not-great-at-making-up-names's win for my 400 followers giveaway! I hope you all enjoy it!</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Loving Accident

Cullen slowly shelved the last book he had been holding, sliding it into place next to another by the same author. He stepped back and frowned at the organized precision, then looked around his office. There was nothing left for him to work on now. Everything was tidy, cleaned up and in its proper place. Reorganizing the books had been the last thing he could think of to do, and it really hadn’t needed to be done in the first place.

She was late. Cullen glanced out at the darkness of the night, and once more went to look out the window, straining to see the first gatehouse. He could just make out the area lit up by the two torches, revealing no Inquisitor or her party riding through.

Idril had written that she would be back by noon today. It was today, correct? He hadn’t mistaken it, had he?

Cullen turned back to his unusually orderly desk and read through her letter again, for perhaps the eighth time. She was definitely supposed to be back today. 

Cullen tried to shrug off his worry. She was a talented mage accompanied by other talented fighters. He smiled gently; she had just probably run into someone who needed help. Idril had the biggest heart of anyone he had ever seen. Her ascension to Inquisitor had not changed her in the least. She was still the same beautiful elf who had charmed him from the first.

Cullen sighed and went back to the bookshelf. Perhaps he should rearrange them by topic as well as author.

Sometime later, the soft drift of chatter and laughter drifted up to him. Cullen jerked his head around to the window. He could now hear the sharp clicks of shod horse hooves on stone. He shoved the books in his arms hap hazardously back onto the shelf and darted over to the window.

Four people were leading their mounts over the bridge, walking slowly. Straining to make out details in the scant torchlight that reached them, Cullen slowly released a shaking breath. Idril was turned towards one of her traveling companions; he could tell who she was even in the dark. Maker knows he had allowed himself as much pleasure of looking at her as he could possibly handle. The shine of her red hair in the sunlight, the way her vallaslin delicately highlighted her cheekbones and her hazel eyes. In the moonlight her eyes would sparkle, her face shine radiantly. How her skin would flush red with exertion while training, giving ample fuel to his imagination for how she would look when she was doing things other than training.

Cullen swallowed hard, shifting at the heat that curled in his stomach. Maker’s breathe; she was just so wonderful. He wanted her. Craved hearing more of her playful laughter, to feel her concern for him. He was constantly wondering how she would react if he kissed her. After one of his more vivid dreams, he could almost convince himself that she cared for him, that she would welcome his advances. But the realities of daylight always burst that coveted dream. 

He watched as they drew closer, now able to see more of her as the light highlighted her features. She was relaxed, her lips curled in an easy smile. She had been talking to Cassandra, he saw now, her other companions Blackwall and Sera. Curiously, no one was riding. Had they walked all the way back? Now that he knew she was safe, he would ask her tomorrow.

Cullen nodded to himself as she passed from view below him. Tomorrow he would talk to her. He turned to head towards his ladder in bed, but his feet carried him past it and out the door. Cullen leaned on the stone of the bridge wall, watching as they all passed into the stables. He shook his head at himself. He was being too creepy. He needed to stop this. But he stayed right where he was.

Some time passed and one by one, her companions left the stables. But Idril never came out. As the time stretched longer, Cullen became restless. What was she doing in there? Did she need help with something?

Abruptly Cullen turned and headed through his office and down the stairs towards the stables. He finally couldn’t stop himself from acting on his concern. And it was just concern, he told himself, ignoring the excited beats of his heart.

He stepped into the stables and he heard Idril murmuring to her large hart, Arabella, in the lilting cadences of the elvish tongue. The hart stood still in the middle of her stall, her head down and relaxed, the large antlers splayed prominently. Idril was slowly brushing through her heavy fur, keeping the excitable animal calm.

For a moment he stood there awkwardly, unsure if he should disturb her. A part of him thought maybe he should just back out of the stables and leave her be. She was in no need of assistance; he was more likely to disturb her wanted solitude. But another part of him, one that was dragging courage from the depths of his soul, told him to stay. So he did, watching her for a moment more. 

Idril had a faint smile on her face, smoothing the brush over the shining coat before her and following with her other hand. A punch of heat nailed Cullen at the sight of her hands in their gentle rhythm. He could so easily imagine her smoothing her hands along his chest, down his stomach, getting ever closer to…

Cullen made some sort of strangled cough, alerting Idril to his presence. Her slight confused frown instantly turned into a smile, her hazel eyes sparkling. “Cullen! I did not expect you to be awake still. What’s up?”

“I…” Cullen took a few steps forward, focusing on her. “I couldn’t sleep,” he gave the partial truth; “I thought I could be of some help to you. I thought you might be tired.” His lips quirked slightly, “It is rather late, after all.”

Her delicious chuckle rippled out of her, and Cullen basked in the sound. He didn’t get to make her laugh very often. Most of the time they were talking they were dealing with far too serious matters. Pride and pleasure filled his chest, and he grinned, loving her joy. “I am just lingering over my girl here,” Idril patted the Hart’s side. “We spent a long time away this time. She hasn’t had a good brushing for a while now.”

Yes, she had been away for a long time. A few weeks. Twenty three days, in fact. And each day had seemed to take longer than the day before. Cullen took a few steps closer to Idril, “Well, I hope-“

Arabella, who had been calm and relaxed a moment ago, let out a shrieking war cry. The animal tossed its head, its massive antlers getting dangerously close to Idril. “Watch out!” Cullen cried out, stark fear striking ice into his veins as Idril recoiled away from her Hart. Instinctively he came closer, his only thought to protect Idril; she was so small and fragile compared to the massive animal. The Hart let out another battle cry and spun, lashing out at him. One massive and sharp hoof caught him square in the shoulder, spinning him and throwing him back. 

Cullen grunted in pain, but pushed himself back up. He wasn’t going to leave Idril there with such a temperamental and potentially lethal creature. He was back on his feet a faction of a second later, ready to dive into her rescue, but Idril had already gotten out of the stall and had closed the door. Arabella tossed her head again, aggression in her dark eyes. Idril backed away, murmuring to it soothingly in elvish again as she came to his side. 

With a final short, the frustrating animal all the sudden calmed and put her nose into the hay, quietly munching away. Cullen shook his head in confused amazement. What had just happened?

“Cullen! Are you alright?” Idril rushed the last little distance to him, worry blazing from her. “Oh!” She gasped, one hand coming up to her mouth. “Your shoulder.”

Frowning, Cullen turned to look down at where she was staring. There was a curving gash along the top and outside of his arm, blood already running down the white of his linen shirt. Pain came to the injury, as if just waiting for him to look at it. His whole shoulder throbbed, a sharper sting radiating from the cut. Cullen instinctively covered his hand over his right shoulder, pressing down on the blood. He winced, biting back the curses that tried to escape. “It’s nothing,” he ground out.

“Yes it is!” Idril insisted, gesturing him out of the stables. “You have supplies in your office, yes? We are going there now!” 

Cullen didn’t argue with her, just breathed through the shock. It hurt, but he knew from experience that the surprise of it was adding to his pain. The Hart’s kick had been powerful; on top of the cut, he was going to have a very nice hoof shaped bruise for a while. 

Idril swiftly led him up the stairs and then into his office. “Sit,” she commanded, pointing at his chair, and Cullen obediently followed her instructions, kicking back his chair a little ways and sinking down into it gratefully. His hand was sticky with his blood, his right arm felt weak and useless. But the pain was slowly becoming manageable, and Cullen was more able to pay attention to the little Dalish mage now whirling around his office. A fond smile touched his lips, but he suppressed it. She was likely to think him crazy if she saw him smiling now. 

She found the box of supplies he had for emergencies, and rushed back to his desk, clanking it down on top of the papers he had. “Alright,” she said matter-of-factly, but she still looked worried. “Let’s see it.” 

Cullen carefully eased his hand away, the release in pressure making the wound throb painfully again. Idril’s eyes darted up to his face, and she looked tortured at his expression. “Oh, Cullen, I am so sorry.” Very gently, she reached towards his ruined shirt, peeling the ragged cloth back away from his wound. “I didn’t think Arabella would become protective of me while she was in her stall.”

She wet a cloth, and carefully started dabbing around his cut. She was frowning in concentration, her lips pressed together. Her smooth finger tips brushed against his skin, gentle and warm, and a new prickle of awareness rushed through him. Cullen slowly closed his eyes and drew in a breath, trying to brace himself. Instead he drew in her scent, spring flowers mixed with the potency of the outdoors. It was just as if he were standing in a forest, spiritual and powerful. And combined with the knowledge it was her, it went straight to his head, made him dizzy. Heat rolled through him, and he felt himself starting to respond. 

His eyes flew open; she was so close. He could see the fragile lines of the branches of her tattoo, the warmth of candle light burnishing her fair skin to a warm golden glow, the deep pink of her expressive mouth. Cullen stopped himself from shifting in his chair. They had never been so close to each other before, not for longer than a second. They had never been truly alone with each other either. Cullen felt himself start to harden, and he dropped his eyes closed, fighting against it. He wouldn’t be able to hide his arousal from her; he had to keep himself in control. 

Gently Idril finished cleaning at the cut. She seemed to pause, then she made a breathy noise from the back of her throat. It was probably wasn’t meant to be, but it was inherently sexual, and Cullen bit back the groan that threatened to break free. Maker, she wasn’t making this easy on him. 

“Your shirt needs to come off,” she spoke softly. Cullen’s eyes flew open in surprise, and he stared at her in shock. A pink flush had spread over her cheeks, following the path of her vallaslin. She looked as flustered as he felt, staring hard at his wound. She licked her lips, rushing out, “I need to bandage the cut.”

Right, Cullen shook his head. She was a caring person. This was about her helping him, nothing more. Cullen clenched down on his muscles, holding himself back from doing anything impulsive. Like wrapping his arms around her waist and hauling her into his lap. Or standing and bending her backwards onto his desk right behind her. Or even just brushing his fingers against her smooth skin. 

Cullen focused on his task, trying to ignore the thought that he was striping for her. Using only his left arm, Cullen pulled his shirt from his pants, letting the loose material hang free. Then he paused for a second. Normally he would just pull his shirts off from behind his head. But with how much his shoulder ached, he wasn’t going to be able to lift his right arm enough to do that. 

Idril seemed to sense his hesitation. “Do you need some help?” Cullen opened his mouth to tell her no, but her hands were already grasping the bottom of his shirt. Dangerously close to where he actually wanted her to grab. His cock twitched in his pants, and he sucked in a breath. How was he going to keep his reaction from her? 

Idril seemed to take his stifled silence as acceptance, so she lifted his shirt further, exposing the skin of his stomach and back. Cullen gritted his teeth together, slamming his eyes shut once more. His throat closed up, heat strangling him as he desperately tried to ignore the sensuality of her helping to remove his clothing. Working in tandem, Cullen was able to free his left arm enough where he could take over and slip the ruined shirt over his head and down his right arm.

With his eyes closed, Cullen worked on controlling his breathing. His pulse was racing, heart thudding hard. He imagined he felt her eyes on her chest, imagined he heard her gulp, her own breathing a little erratic. But he couldn’t hear over the sound of his own heartbeat. It was all in his head. Wishful thinking.

Cullen flinched as Idril’s fingers met his bare skin, body flexing, but he kept his jaw clenched. Slowly, gently, Idril placed a tissue compact over the cut, then wound strips of linen around his shoulder and under his armpit, keeping the compress in place. Her fingers would brush against his skin periodically; each time seemed to add to the heat rocketing through him, tension building in him. He noted desperately that his breathing was no longer so even. And his cock, Maker, he was completely hard. If she looked down at his lap, it would be immediately obvious to her. An illicit thrill shot through him, brought beads of sweat out on his forehead and a groan caught in his throat. 

“Cullen?” She asked worriedly. “Did I hurt you? I’m so sorry, I’m almost done.”

Cullen just shook his head, keeping his eyes screwed shut. If he could just remember to breathe, he might make it through this without embarrassing himself in front of her forever. 

“All done,” She finally said, and her hands fell away. Cullen released a shaking breath, relieved and disappointed all at the same time. 

But Idril didn’t move away. She stayed, her body inches from him, trapped between his legs and the chair and his desk. A new tension seemed to build, but this time it wasn’t just within himself. The air seemed to crackle as he waited desperately for her to move away. But she stayed.

Ever so gently, Idril’s fingers brushed into a lock of hair that had fallen over his brow. Cullen stopped breathing, his heart thundering. Was she actually doing this? He hadn’t gone delirious with want and was just imagining this, was he? Cullen squeezed his eyes together. If this was all just an illusion, he didn’t want to break it.

Her slender fingers combed through the lock, brushing it aside tenderly. Her fingertips left his hair, tracing down his temples, along his cheek, along his jaw. She was trembling, he noted dazedly, almost as much as he was. Her fingers ran along the prickle of his stubble to his chin, then disappeared. 

Cullen almost moaned at the loss of her touch, his lips parting in protest. He wanted her back, wanted her hands on him, whatever way he could take her. The moment hung in the air between them, potent and filled with only the sound of their breathing. And, Cullen realized, she was panting just as much as he was.

Cullen snapped his eyes open, eyes locking with hers. And what he saw there banished his doubt. Idril desired him. Shock and wonder filled him, his chest actually painful with the amazement and elation that filled him. The beautiful mosaic of color that were her hazel eyes was almost obscured by how dilated her pupils were. Her skin was flushed, her breasts rising and falling against her robes. Her mouth was open, her lips trembling slightly. She looked hungry, shy, and apprehensive all at once. She swallowed heavily and licked her lips, and Cullen gave into the months of yearning and long nights filled with only his imagination.

Slowly but firmly, Cullen lifted his hands to her cheeks. His right shoulder screamed in protest, but he ignored it. Nothing was going to stop him now. Idril didn’t back away, made no motions to stop him. He touched her, finally felt the smoothness of her creamy skin. Idril’s eyelashes fluttered, the slight hint of fear melting from her expression, and Cullen reveled in the beauty of her. He slowly rose from his chair, and she kept her eyes locked with his as his body unfolded, coming to his full height. He kept a small space between them, not wanting to scare her off, but her expression never wavered. 

Drawing the moment out as long as possible, Cullen finally lowered his head. Closing his eyes, he sucked in her scent, the warm seductive smell of her and he finally pressed his lips against hers. He felt her shiver, felt her lips tremble against the soft press of his, felt her suck in a breath. 

Sweet. So sweet. Carefully Cullen brushed her lips, back and forth, the friction building between them. And then she kissed him back, sending a wave of electricity through his body, his gut twisting in response and his cock pulsing. He groaned, and their kiss became a thing of moving lips and panting breaths. 

Idril opened her mouth, and Cullen swiped his tongue inside, feeling her gasp. For a split second he feared he had gone too far, but she moaned, meeting him with a surge of passion. Her hands landed on the bare skin of his stomach, and Cullen groaned in want, his hips surging into the air between them. Idril let out a breathless laugh against his lips, and she sank into him. Hip to hip, her softness cradled his hardness, her breasts pressed against his chest. Her hands moved trails of fire from his stomach around his sides and onto his back. 

Cullen broke the kiss, resting his forehead against her. For a long moment they stared into each other’s eyes, reveling in what they were sharing. They panted, both knowing that this had changed them forever.

A playful smirk kissed Idril’s lips, and she deliberately rolled her hips. Cullen moaned, the friction breaking the slender thread of control he had, and he sank his hands into her red hair, and crashed his lips against her. Frantically they kissed, their tongues tangling, bodies rubbing against each other. 

Idril was trapped between his body and his desk, her movements limited. With frustration, Cullen pushed away the neat piles of paper and equipment he had just arranged so deliberately on the surface of his desk. With a flutter and some crashing, the wood was clear. Idril chuckled and suckled on his lower lip wantonly. Mindless, he lifted her and laid her back on the desk. 

He reared back and stared down at her. His desk was big enough that she was able to lie fully along the short way. Her hair fanned out behind her head, her lips were swollen and wet. A shudder went through him. Was she wet elsewhere?

“Help me,” Idril whimpered, and she rolled, exposing the laces of her robes, neatly crossing down her back. Cullen leaned over her, his fingers tangling with the strings, quickly working at the knot. Idril moaned, her ass seeking backwards and she pressed into him, driving him crazy. 

Cullen hissed in a breath, one hand grabbing onto her hip while the other pulled the laces from their positions. “Wait,” he growled, feeling himself reaching his peak far too quickly. She obeyed with a whimper, and Cullen hurriedly finished opening her robe. With brisk movements, he peeled it over her shoulders, spun her back around, and pulled it down her arms. He paused for a moment, sucking in an appreciative breath as her breasts were exposed. 

“Beautiful,” he said reverently, leaving the robe around her waist and bringing both hands up to cup her weight. He softly brushed his thumbs across the dusky pink of her nipples, watching them bead tighter. Idril arched into his hands, crying out in pleasure. 

Cullen shook himself, reluctantly leaving her bare skin and smoothing his hands down her stomach. With a few tugs and Idril lifting her hips, Cullen pulled her robe and her smalls off, and then she was naked before him. 

Cullen took a step back, absently running a shaking hand over his mouth as he drank her in. He had imagined this more times than he could count. Just like this too, on his desk. 

Idril turned her head to the side, looking down her body and watched him. Her hands were gripping the wood of the desk, knuckles white. Her thighs were parted, and Cullen drank in the darker red curls, the glint of moisture revealed in her folds. Idril looked nervous, shy, and she squirmed, unintentionally flashing him even more, and Cullen’s knees about gave out. He could feast at her for hours, he knew. 

“Not just me,” she pleaded, shy at his perusal. “You too, Cullen.”

Cullen nodded, unable to resist her. His cock jumped in delight, and he tore at the fastenings of his trousers, quickly pushing them down. He sighed in relief at his release, but he noticed he was already leaking. Maker’s breath, he wasn’t going to last long. He kicked his pants away, and looked to Idril. If she seemed hesitant about this, he would find the strength to stop. Somehow.

But she now just looked eager. She licked her lips as she stared at where his cock bobbed in the air, and Cullen had to fight to breath. “Cullen,” she whimpered and parted her thighs more, a fiery blush burning her cheeks at how bold she was being. She rolled her hips. “More, yes?” 

Cullen put his hands on her hips, and slid her closer to the edge, leaning over her. He gently kissed her, too light and teasing. Idril responded eagerly, twisting her hips to get closer to him, arching her breasts up so her nipples rasped against his chest. She gasped, and then groaned in frustration. “Why are you…” She sounded adorably frustrated, seeking pleasure but only getting teased. 

Cullen grinned wickedly, but instead of pressing against her, he moved down to her throat, breathing in her unique forest scent and the scent of her desire. He flicked his tongue on her jumping pulse, dropping kisses and little suckling nips all down her throat and chest. He reached one nipple, and dragged his tongue along it, delighting in the throaty noises she made. He switched back and forth, teasing her body higher and higher. 

Idril’s hands left the desk, fingers sinking into his hips and yanking him into her. His aching cock slid along her folds, brushing up between them and they both groaned at the feeling. Unable to help himself, Cullen rocked against her clit a couple times, feeling her fingers spasm. She was close, he knew, maybe just as close as he was. He wasn’t going to last if he kept this up.

He stood up and pulled away again, but this time he grabbed his cock. Taking in a rough breath, he aligned himself with her entrance. Naked desire and excitement shone from Idril’s face as he brushed himself up and down. Maker, he shuddered, she was actually here with him. Clamping down on his muscles and calling on his rigid control, he finally, gratefully, blissfully, sank into her. 

Idril cried out, her body moving seductively as he slowly slid into her. She was hot and wet and tight, and Cullen dropped to his elbows, a momentary pain streaking from his shoulder. He nestled his face into the crook of her neck, thankful for the break from pleasure. It brought him back from the edge a bit. With one last rock, Cullen seated himself inside her fully. 

He felt her heartbeat in tandem with his, could feel the tension coiled in her body. They held still for a moment, and Cullen leaned up just enough so he could stare down into her eyes. She had the same glazed wonderment on her face that he had. Gently, he kissed her, knowing she felt the same perfect connection he did. She smiled dazzlingly, and it was the most beautiful thing Cullen had ever seen. 

His cock kicked inside of her heat, and he hissed in a breath. Slowly he pulled out, watching her eyes flutter at the pleasure racing through her. With a bit more speed, Cullen pushed back in, closing his own eyes at the delicious friction. He picked up his pace a little more each time, and soon he was going at the pace they both needed. Gasps and fragments of words dropped from Idril’s swollen lips with each of his thrusts, and Cullen could feel white electricity arching through him.

He reared up, and grabbed her hips, holding her stead as he pounded into her. Idril’s head thrashed back and forth, and Cullen felt a deep rumble emanate from his chest. It was time. He moved his thumb to her clit and rubbed quickly. That added stimulation made Idril stiffen beneath him, and she cried out as she fell into pleasure. 

Around his cock, Cullen felt her walls grab at him, and he couldn’t deny his own pleasure anymore. With another two powerful and uncontrolled thrusts, he collapsed over her, crying out her name as he came. He wrapped his arms around her waist, crushing her against his chest as he mindlessly bucked into her, muffling his noises into her neck.

Slowly, with decreasingly powerful waves, they came back to themselves. Cullen lay on her heavily, panting too quickly and feeling boneless. Idril chuckled slightly and sighed contentedly. She brought her hands up to his back and wrapped them exhaustedly around his waist, mirroring his position. 

Cullen was loath to leave where he was, nestled against her and still within her, but he was too heavy. With a regretful groan, he heaved himself up and slipped from her. He looked down to her core, heat staining his cheeks when he saw the mess they had made together. 

He turned to where the emergency kit had fallen on the ground and he scooped up one of the cloths. Gently he cleaned her, relishing in the warm glow of her skin, her tired but blissful expression. That he could care for her after they made love. When she was clean, he hurriedly wiped himself up, and pulled his trousers back on. 

Idril sat up with a sigh, moving her hands through her tangled hair, combing it back from her face. Silently she stood, and the two of them helped her don her clothing, although she still looked disheveled. Cullen sat her down in his chair afterwards. “Just a minute, Idril,” he kissed her lingeringly and then set about righting the mess they had made. Or at least making it look like he hadn’t just ravished the Inquisitor on his desk. 

When things were relatively clean, he turned back to her. Idril’s eyes were closed, and she was slumped in the too large chair. She was adorable and she looked like she had just been well and truly pleased. A manly satisfaction made his chest bow. 

Gently he took her hand, and her eyes opened. She smiled as he pulled her up, and led her over to the ladder. He dropped her hand only to grab the ladder rungs and start climbing. 

His shoulder let out a distinct howl, and Cullen cursed. He frowned down at the deep purple bruise already showing up, the skin mottled around the white of her bandage. “Maker’s breath,” he ground out. It was going to be very painful to climb up to his room, and even more so in the morning when his shoulder had stiffened.

Beside him Idril chuckled slightly and she twined her fingers with his. Walking backwards, she pulled him gently towards the door. “My room doesn’t have any ladders.” A playful smile flirted with her lips, and Cullen grinned happily. 

He brought their hands up to his lips and kissed the back of her hand, then pulled her closer to give her a deep, loving kiss. “My clever Idril,” he whispered against her lips. They both grinned at each other happily before setting off for her room.

He would follow his Idril forever.


End file.
